


Repent and Repeat

by supersleepygoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Blasphemy, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dom Sam Winchester, F/M, Getting Slapped Around, Hair-pulling, Jealous Sam Winchester, Masturbation, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Possessive Sam Winchester, Priest AU, Priest Kink, Rough Sex, Sex in a Church, Spanking, Talk of Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, fear kink, fluid sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersleepygoat/pseuds/supersleepygoat
Summary: Sam is your priest and during confession you admit to breaking your purity pledge. Sam gets jealous and makes you work for your absolution. Priest!AU.





	Repent and Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> If the idea of having sex with a priest is offensive to you, please to do not read. This is pure FILTH with religious undertones. So, if you’re not comfortable with that, turn back now. Otherwise, come sit with me in the trash can in hell.

You close the door behind you and sit on the red velvet bench. This isn’t your first time in confession. You’ve been confessing since you have been old enough to sin, and you were an early bloomer. But you still get nervous every time you’re in this sacred space. 

Your priest is well versed in your past sins. You were shy at first. It is awkward admitting your array of impure thoughts to a man of God. But Father Winchester insists the path to heaven is paved with honesty. 

He knows all of your darkest thoughts, almost all. There are some you keep to yourself. They are too shameful to admit, even to yourself. But no matter what, Father Winchester always absolves you. He always forgives you. 

The partition slides open and you can see the outline of your priest’s strong jaw through the aperture. Against your will, the impure thoughts flood you in waves. 

“Hi, Sam,” you say in a low voice. 

If you could see Sam’s face, you would see him smile at your greeting. “Y/N, we’ve been over this. When you confess, you must call me Father. Save the familiarities for bake sales and canned food drives.”

“I’m sorry. Shall I add this to my list of sins?” you tease the strict man.

“No, I think I can let this slide just this once. But I think we should start over, don’t you?”

“Sure thing… Father,” you all but purr. You clear your throat for dramatic effect. “Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.”

When you fail to continue, Sam prompts you forward. “What do you need to confess, child?” 

“Well, as I mentioned, it has been a while since my last confession. A lot can happen in a few months. I’m not sure where to start.”

“Start at the beginning.” 

“I broke a vow. A couple years ago, I signed one of those purity pledges that they hand out to the unmarried parishioners. But recently, I was tempted by the devil and broke that oath.”

“The Devil tempted you?” Sam voice is harder than you expected. He is usually so forgiving and accepting of his congregation’s shortcomings. But he sounds angry with you.

“Well, who else would it be?”

“You cannot blame the Devil for your every failing. Who was the boy?” Sam presses you for more information than is necessary. 

You don’t want to rat out a fellow sinner. He is a member of this church and should confess his sin on his own. “I-I don’t see why I need to-”

“I need to know everything. To be forgiven, you need to tell me everything.”

“Everything?” you ask with hesitation. 

“Everything.” Sam takes a deep breath. “Tell me what he did to you,” he urges you. 

“We had sex… twice,” you respond with guilt.

“You must be more specific… if you want reconciliation.” Sam pushes you more than he pushes the rest of his flock. He expects more from you. He can’t help himself from wanting to know the details of your sin. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say. We were at his apartment. He made me dinner. Then he told me he was still hungry. The next thing I know, he has me laid out on his kitchen table with my skirt pushed up around my hips. His tongue must have been controlled by the Devil. No other creature could ever make me submit to sin so easily. I wanted to beg him to stop but instead I opened my legs and let him devour me. I actually gripped his hair and pulled him closer to me. I used the lord’s name in vain as his tongue made me feel things that should only be felt in the confines of marriage.”

“Did he make you feel good?” Sam’s voice is lower than the last time he spoke. 

“Too good. I was blinded by lust. After I got a taste of ecstasy, I needed more. I was creature of lust and gluttony. I was never fully sated.”

“Did it end there, child?” There is a mix of anger and hope in Sam’s voice. 

“No, Father. I didn’t stop him when he pulled me to the edge of the table. I didn’t stop him when he penetrated me and broke my innocence.” You say with shame but also hints of arousal. The memory is kindling a burn in your lower belly.

“Was there blood? Did it hurt?” Sam asks through gritted teeth. 

“There was a little blood. He told me he liked knowing he was my first.”

For a brief moment, you think you heard an angry growl coming from Sam’s cubicle. But that is not likely. You chalk the sound up to a loud air conditioning unit. 

“It did hurt, but only for a moment. He made it feel good. He used his fingers to ease the pain. He showed me what buttons to press and where to rub myself to get the same feeling on my own. He taught me how to touch myself. I – I didn’t know I could make myself feel like that. I haven’t been able to stop since. That is my next sin, Father. I know masturbation is abhorrent to God. I know God is always watching. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my fingers dry.” Your breath is getting heavier. You feel a familiar throb in your core as you wait for Sam’s response. 

You think of how often you have gotten yourself off since your date and start squirming in your seat. The anticipation of hearing Sam’s deep voice makes your eager fingers twitch into action.

“God  _ is _ watching. But, so am I. Are you touching yourself right now?” Sam asks in a threatening tone. He can see your vague outline through the screen and it won’t stop squirming. He adjusts his tightening pants as he waits for your answer. 

“No, Father!” you lie. 

“You sure about that. I can see you through the grated partition. Lying is a sin, child. So do not waste your opportunity to repent. You are here to confess. So, confess.” Sam’s voice is full of demand. 

You only whimper as a response. Your palm presses against your clit as you scissor two fingers inside yourself. 

Those little sounds cause Sam to palm himself through his slacks. “Confess!” He growls at you. 

“Yes! Yes! Sam… Father! I – I can’t stop myself! I’m sorry!” Your shaky breaths tell Sam you are anything but apologetic right now. “I was having impure thoughts again. I have them every Sunday… every time I hear your voice,” you confess in a near whisper. 

Sam doesn’t say a word. You know you crossed a line. He is your priest.  _ You _ may be weak enough to give into your lustful temptations but he is a true man of God. He will be disgusted by your propensity toward sin. 

“Father?” You whisper when Sam fails to give you your absolution or even respond at all. 

All of the sudden, the door to your confessional is torn open. Your heaving priest stands in the doorway. Your cheeks flush red as you have been caught with your hand up your dress. You look to the floor. The anger in his eyes scares you. 

You go to pull your hand out of your panties but his voice stops you. 

“Don’t.” 

You have never heard his voice so low. 

You expected him to drag you out of your little cubicle and publicly shame you for your wickedness. It is what you deserve. But all he does is step into the confined space and close the door behind him. It is a tight fit, he is a large man. 

Your mixing body heats warm the small space. He simply stands there and stares at the hand in your panties. “Show me what he taught you,” Sam instructs through the lump in his throat. 

You stare at him with wide eyes. The humiliation you feel for being exposed to your priest is overrode by your fingers’ instinctive reaction. You rub yourself as instructed. He watches your light pink panties turn a shade darker as they become soaked with your arousal. 

Sam’s resistance has hit it’s breaking point. “On your feet, whore,” he commands.

You stand up in an instant. Due to the limited space, your chest presses up against his. “Please, Sam. I’m sorry. I am so-”

His firm palm lands over your mouth to shut you up. “Need I remind you again? That is ‘Father’ to you, child.” 

Sam uses his free hand to grip your wrist. His grip is bruising and forceful even though you put up no resistance. He brings your wet fingers to his lips. He drags his flat tongue across your digits at an agonizing pace, never once breaking eye contact. Your fingers slip into his mouth and he sucks on them until your wetness is cleared away.

You whine and press your body closer to his. Sam pulls your fingers off his lips. You try guiding his hand into your panties but Sam pulls away. He takes the hand off your mouth and slaps you across the cheek. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. 

“You have not earned my favour. You lost your chance to beg for forgiveness. Now, you must accept your punishment without question. If you are to gain my absolution, you have to be a good girl.” Sam puts his hand in your hair and pulls your head back. “You must atone for being a needy little slut.” His lips lower to bite down over your neck. 

You moan with approval but that greedy sound earns you sharp tug to your hair. His teeth almost piece your skin. Sam puts his hand back over your mouth as you cry out in pain.

He trades places with you. He then sits on the velvet bench. “Repent,” he demands as he leans back against the wall.  

You bite your lip and fall to your knees between his long legs. You run your hands up his thighs. You can see a sizable bulge under his fabric and your mouth waters. 

You reach to undo his pants but he slaps your hands away. He puts his hand back in your hair and yanks you to your feet. You wince under his hold, but that only make him hold you tighter. 

He pulls the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders. In one jarring movement, he pulls your loose dress down your body until it pools at your feet. You aren’t wearing a bra, so your nipple peak for him instantly. 

“What kind of indigent whore doesn’t wear panties to church?” Sam asks with a breathy growl. 

You look at him with confusion for a moment. You look down. You are wearing panties. But before you can ask if he needs glasses, Sam’s strong fingers rip your panties in half. The shredded material falls off your body. He takes the soaked cotton and shoves it into his pocket for later. 

“Look at you. You were completely bare under your dress,” Sam lies. “You’re going to make my pews wet. I should have you clean up your mess. I should have you on your knees licking up the puddles you leave on your seat. I should have you lick up the juices your needy cunt leaves behind,” His hand shoots forward and cups your mound. “You want to lick my wood clean?” 

Despite his serious tone, you can’t help but giggle at his innuendo. But that proved to be the wrong response. Sam secures his palm back across your mouth before he pinches your clit. Your yelp of pain is muffled by his hand. You cannot speak so you apologize with your pleading eyes. 

“I forgive your momentary insolence,” Sam concedes when he sees your eyes water. 

His finger drags through your folds. His gentle touch mimics his soft words. He messages you with lazy effort as he feels just how wet you are for him. You put your hand on his shoulder to keep yourself steady. Once you’ve succumbed to his touch and calmed down, he takes the hand off your mouth. He wants to hear your pretty sounds. 

“Is this what you want?” His thick finger circles your entrance but refuses to slip inside. 

“Yes, Father!” You cry as your rock your hips against his hand. You are trying and failing to get him inside your throbbing hole. You put your foot on the bench beside him and expose your wet pussy. You’re hoping he’ll see your swollen clit and know how bad you need it. 

You then squeal with surprise as Sam knocks your foot off the bench. He pulls you down so you are bent over his knee. 

“Do not be greedy, child!” He lands a hard slap over your ass. “You are lucky there isn’t enough space in here for me to spread you out and give you my belt,” Sam informs you. You whimper at the thought of receiving your lashings. You wiggle your butt and silently beg for more. “But that wouldn’t be a true punishment, would it? You’d like it.” Sam chides as he spanks you again. The resounding crack of flesh against flesh echoes off the thin walls of the confessional. 

You finally realize where you are. Anyone could hear you. There are still parishioners in the church. The service just ended and people are still lingering about. Plus, there is a women’s church group meeting starting soon. Those women are nosey and judgmental. If they hear strange sounds coming from the confessional, they are sure to investigate. 

You look up at Sam over your shoulder. He seems unfazed at the idea that someone may hear you. But that thought scares you to death. You will forever be known as the whore who corrupted your small town’s favourite priest. You will be marked as a tramp and exiled from every church and town gathering. 

Sam kneads you welted ass until he notices you staring at him with fear in your eyes. “What is wrong, child?” He asks as though he had not just spanked you in a confessional. He sounds every bit the concerned and caring priest you know. 

You want to tell him what has you scared. But you don’t want to upset him further. You don’t want him to think you don’t want this. You don’t want him to stop. 

“Are you mad at me for not waiting until marriage? Do you think I am damaged goods?” You admit to a different fear that has been eating away you. 

Sam smiles at you. His smile is a strange mix of condescending pity and reassurance. “I remember the day I got you to sign your purity pledge.” He hits you again, resuming his other role. You bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. “You should have read the fine print.” Two slaps this time. “Your form was different than everyone else’s”. One more welting spank. You bow your head and bite your cheek in unadulterated pain.  

Sam sits you up so you are straddling his lap. He grips your hips and drags you up his thighs until your core is resting over his bulge. He hooks a finger under your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

“Your pledge was never to God. It was to me. You signed your virginity over to me. It was mine to take. But now, you gave it away.” He slaps his hand down over the fleshy part of your mound. “Now, you owe  _ me  _ your penance!” He informs you in a threatening voice.  

Your eyes widen. You didn’t actually read the form before you signed it. You signed it without question. You trusted your faith. You did as you were told to do, like good religious girls are supposed to. But an odd thought occurs to you. Even if you knew, you would have still signed it. Even if you read the form properly and realized you were signing your innocence over this deceptive man, you would have still done it. 

“I – I thought you weren’t allowed to have sex. Priests aren’t supposed to-” 

Another slap lands across your cheek. It’s not hard but it gets your attention. “I don’t need a three-holed whore telling me what I can and cannot do. I make the rules. You vowed to be mine. You broke it. You will have to work for my forgiveness.”

You feel like arguing. You feel it is unfair to be punished for breaking a vow you didn’t knowingly make. But your curious nature stops you. You want to see where this goes. 

“Anything, Father,” you say as you roll your hips down onto his swelling cock.

“Good girl, you’ve earned yourself a taste.” Sam says as he pushes you off his lap. He spread his legs so you can settle between them. You get on your knees and open his belt. 

You pull his heavy cock from his pants and feel your throat close in anticipation. He is big. You only have one other man to compare him to, but you know Sam would be big by anyone’s standards. You wrap your hand around the base and your fingertips don’t even meet due to his girth. You swallow thickly as nerves take you over. 

“You can do it,” Sam encourages you. “Take the tip first. I’ll let you get used to it before I give you more. I have to warn you though, you will be taking it all. Better get started.” 

The corners of Sam’s mouth curl upward as he sees a glimpse of fear flash in your eyes. That may be the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

You swallow your apprehension and lean forward. You do as you’re told. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the bead of precum off his slit. You let your jaw get used to his girth before sinking down a little further. 

You let your tongue flick against the little band of tissue under the tip. Sam’s hips jerk upward in response. His cock hits the roof of your mouth and you choke back your gag. 

“I knew your little whore mouth would be good at this,” Sam says as he catches his breath. “You want more?” He raises an eyebrow at your already full cheeks. 

You cannot speak so you nod slightly. The movement causes his tip to drag against the roof of your mouth again but this time you don’t feel the need to gag. It kind of tickles. 

Sam grips your hair and guides you down his cock. Your finger nails dig into his thighs. You brace yourself for the never-ending intrusion. Only half cock is inside you before you need to tap out. You can feel him slide into your throat. You vision blurs and you can’t breathe. He’s too big. You need to stop, for now.

He lets you pull off him. A string of saliva connects your lips to his tip as you pull away. You wipe your mouth and look to the floor in shame. It is a different shame than the guilt you felt earlier. It is one of inadequacy. You couldn’t take him all in. You weren’t good enough for him. Your eyes had been watering from the lack of air but now they are watering from failure. You will never be able to earn his forgiveness. 

Sam sees your solemn shift and grips your wrists. He pulls you off the ground and sits you back on his lap. His cock now rests between your stomachs.

“You did well, child. You can take the rest later. A promise is a promise. You  _ will _ take it all. But, we’ll give your jaw a break until then.” Sam assures you. When you still refuse to look him in the eye, Sam grips your jaw and squeezes it. “Do not pout. It is unbecoming.”

You nod and rid your face of petulance. That seems to please Sam because he lets go of your jaw and puts his hands on your thighs.

“Up,” he instructs as he taps your sore bottom. 

You raise yourself up and let him position his cock at your entrance. You can feel the tip slip inside you and you already feel too full. 

“Down,” he instructs next. But you don’t move. You don’t think you can take all of him inside you. He hardens his glare. “I said,  _ down _ !” he shouts too loud for comfort. Someone could hear.

Your pussy clenches with fear and you look over your shoulder at the closed door. 

Your reaction makes Sam smirk as a wicked idea appears in his mind. “Get yourself down or I’ll push you down. I’ll make you scream loud enough that everyone in this building will know what your letting me do to you. Everyone will know what a dirty little cockslut you are.” 

The fear of getting caught by pious onlookers fills you with an inexplicable excitement. The idea of being known as the town scarlet is terrifying. But the added risk of someone overhearing you and finding out how desperate you are for clergy cock makes this all the better. The fear of losing your reputation is only driving closer to destroying it.

You sink down onto Sam’s cock and a victorious smile warps his features. Your walls stretch to their limit. You cannot stop a grimace of pain the more of him you take in. Sam kisses your crinkled brows and the pain starts to subside. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Ride it out.” Sam continues to praise and encourage you until your clit is buried in the patch of hair at the base of his cock. 

You groan as your walls accommodate his impressive length. He can feel you tighten around him and he twitches inside you. That slight movement makes you crave more. You go to lift yourself up so you can start the flow of friction, but Sam’s firm hands hold you in place. 

“No. Stay put. You were supposed to be my virgin angel. I was supposed to guide you into true womanhood.  _ I _ was to be your first. But, you squandered that opportunity. You took that from me. So now, you are nothing but my dirty little cocksleeve. I will use you however and whenever I want. Whores don’t get a gentle hand,” Sam informs you of the fate you have seal for yourself. 

Your eyes widen as you realize the hole you have dug for yourself. You could have been his princess. But now, you are his cum catcher. As you drown in the darkness of his eyes, you wonder if you would have wanted it any other way.

“Oh, you like that?” Sam teases when he sees your lips curl into a smile. You bite your lip to stop your smile from spreading but it’s too late. He’s seen your wanting. He can feel it as you throb around his cock. “Well, then we are just going to sit here. I’m going to let you sit and think about your new responsibility.” 

Sam keeps himself buried inside you. He tortures you by staying completely still. He revels in the feel of you squeezing and warming his cock. You drop your forehead to his shoulder in frustration. Seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours. 

Your skin is sweaty and your chest heaves. “Please, Father. Have mercy on me,” you beg him. You kiss his neck but he is still wearing his collared shirt so there isn’t much exposed skin to explore. But that is alright because you always loved seeing him in his clerical collar. He looks so forbidden. 

You start nibbling on his ear instead. 

“Why should I have mercy on such a lost soul? You have not earned it,” Sam denies you once again. He loves hearing you beg and he wants to hear it one more time before he tears you apart. 

“Please, Fa-” you stop yourself when you get an idea. It is a very bad idea. But, you go for it any way. You have nothing to lose at this point. “Please, Daddy,” you purr. 

Sam growls and pulls your head back by your hair. “You naughty whore. Watch your tongue,” he warns you.

He is so close to snapping. You know you are already in for a rude fucking so you may as well not shy away now. You want him to unleash it all. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, forgive me!” You stick your lip out because you know he hates it when you pout. You try rocking your hips but the hand in your hair tightens. 

He pulls up on your hair so you are slightly raised off his cock. “You have no idea the beast you are tempting, child. My dirty slut wants it hard?”

Sam doesn’t wait for you to respond before his hips spring off the bench and he slams into you to the hilt again. You weren’t expecting such force and you yelp in surprise. You slap a hand over your mouth and pray no one heard you. Sam takes his hand out of your hair. He forces you to uncover your mouth. 

“I want to hear you. I want everyone to hear you,” he snarls as he pistons his cock into you. You cling to his neck to hold yourself up. Under the jostling force of his thrusts, you would have fallen off had he not had a bruising grip over your hips. 

You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back as you feel a growing tingle in your lower belly. He watches your eyes squeeze shut and your face contort in quiet pleasure. You let out low groans and small whimpers. But otherwise, you bite your lip and strain to keep yourself quiet.

But that is not what Sam wants. He wants you red and embarrassed when you think someone may catch you. In reality, Sam knows the confessionals are sound proof. They are sound proof to ensure discretion and confidentiality. But  _ you _ don’t know that. Sam wants you to think the whole congregation can hear you scream his name. 

Sam bounces you on his cock and watches your breasts jiggle for him. He pushes against the hold you have over his hair. He tries to lean forward and catch a pebbled nipple in his mouth. Once you realize what he wants, you loosen your grip and hold his head against your chest. 

His lips latch on to the bud and he sucks it between his teeth. His mouth is not gentle. He leaves behind bruises and even breaks the skin with his eager fang-like teeth. His tongue laps up the blood and soothes the overworked area. One hand leaves your hip to knead your neglected breast. 

His other hand slides between your bodies to play with your clit. He trusts you to hold yourself up and bounce on your own. Despite the overwhelming stimulation, you meet his challenge. You ride his cock and even pick up a vigorous pace. You want him to be proud of you. You want your absolution. 

You can’t stop yourself from screaming now. “S-Sam,” you groan as you feel yourself getting so close. The tightening in your stomach is too strong to ignore. 

“That’s it, cherub. Sing for me!” Sam urges you. 

You scream as your orgasm rips you apart. Your skin tingles and your every muscle quivers. The coil inside you snaps and you break open. The string of profanities that fall from your lips even has Sam a little surprised. You not only evoke God’s name but you scream for Lucifer to never let you free from his seductive clutches. 

Sam laughs to himself as you are once again blaming the Devil for your own sin.

As your pussy throbs, Sam hooks his arms under your knees and lifts you both off the bench. He slams you against the side wall. The grated partition bites into the skin on your back but you don’t care. You let Sam nail you into the wall at a brutal pace as he chases his end. You’re not sure if you had another mini orgasm or the first one just never ended. But your limbs turn to jelly as you take his absolution in stride. 

With one final and brutal thrust, Sam spills his holy seed inside of you. You can feel how deep it went. You wished the churched allowed you to be on birth control. You can feel Sam fill your womb and you know no amount of praying will stop him from eventually knocking you up. 

Sam uses your dripping hole to work himself through his release. Once finished, he pulls out of you and puts your feet on the ground. Your legs are shaky but you manage to stay standing. 

He sits back on the bench and spreads his legs. He doesn’t put away his softening cock. He raises an eyebrow up at you.

As if you already speak a silent language, you fall to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. His erection is fading quickly but you need your redemption. You lap your juices off his cock and moan at your own taste. The new and interesting taste drives you forward. You don’t stop until his hairs tickle your nose. Your throat is full. You cannot breathe but you have never been filled with so much pride and accomplishment. 

You like having him in your throat but he hisses when your tongue starts to overstimulate him. You pull off of him and smile at your own success. 

“Pride is a sin. Don’t let it go to your head, little one.” Sam teases you as he notices the triumph in your eyes. 

“I think you’ve lost the higher ground on lecturing me about sin,” you say as you look up at Sam through your lashes. 

Sam grips your hair again and puts a hand over your throat. He doesn’t squeeze hard, or at least not as hard as you want him to. 

“Watch yourself, whore. I was just about to forgive you. But then, you go and open that mouth of yours and ruin it. It’s like you  _ want  _ to be on my bad side.”

You shrug in response because you can’t respond verbally. 

“I can see that your contrition was not enough to enact permanent change in your behaviour.” Sam releases your throat and pushes you back. You scramble for air and scramble to regain your balance. “Next time, we’ll have to try a different tactic. Maybe I was too generous for letting you cum. I shall not make that mistake twice,” Sam says mostly to himself rather than to you. 

Sam helps you up off the ground. He picks up your discarded dress and drags it up your hips. As he covers your thighs, he admires how his seed is leaking out of you. He drags his finger through the mess and feeds it to you. You moan but know better than to ask for more. 

He helps you back into your dress and admires how pristine you look again. All the bruises and bitemarks he left on your body are covered perfectly by your dress. Only your messy hair holds the evidence of what he’d done. Sam turns you around and smoothest down your hair before tying it in a braid. 

When he spins you back around, you are the picture of innocence he fell in love with all those years ago. Only now, Sam knows the lingering darkness within you. Only  _ he _ knows the true impurity of your soul. Only  _ he _ knows you are covered in his claiming marks and have his seed dripping out of you. Your tainted soul only makes him love you more. You share his depravity. You share his sin. 

You walk out of the confessional and look around to make sure no one sees you exiting the same booth. You know it is a useless effort since the whole town probably heard you screaming. But, you check anyway. 

When no one is around, you turn back to Sam. “I’ll see you next Sunday,  _ Father _ .” You hold your hand out for him to shake. 

Sam takes it but squeezes it tighter than necessary. “About that, I’ve been thinking. I have decided you will no longer be merely a Sunday Seagull. You soul is in need of more regular contrition. You will come to me every night. I think you could benefit from attending extra services. I am also  _ always _ available for private counsel.”

You think about your busy weekday schedule. Going to church  _ every _ day will do nothing but interfere with your daily responsibilities. But then you look up into Sam’s eyes. You realize seeing him only once a week will never be enough for you anymore. 

“See you tomorrow then, Sam.” You smile at him and reluctantly pull your hand out of his. 

Sam returns your smile. You finally see the warm and kind man you know and love. The fury and fire in his eyes as simmered into a comfortable heat. He loves how easy it was to convince you to come back to him. He wonders if there is anything you won’t do for him. 

He plans on testing every limit of your devotion. 

Sam watches you walk away with an awkward sway in your step. He laughs to himself as he knows you are trying to keep your thighs together so his cum doesn’t drip down your legs. 

You walk up the aisle and toward the exit. You walk past some other parishioners but keep your head held high. That sight warms Sam’s heart. You are not ashamed. You think everyone heard you and yet you walk out of God’s house with confidence in your step. 

Sam knows he should have told you that no one heard you in the confessional. But, he likes the idea that you are proud of the noises he pulled from you. 

You look back once you reach the church steps. Before the door closes, you catch a glimpse of Sam’s soft smile. It is a smile you have never seen before. It is a satisfied and blissed out sense of accomplishment. It is genuine and full of hope. And it was all for you. 

You will gladly walk to the pits of hell so see that smile again.


End file.
